


Finger tips

by TerrifiedAristocrat



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Aged Up Yukio, Anal, Fingers in the mouth, M/M, Public Sex, Yukio's general confusion about being taken care of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:26:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifiedAristocrat/pseuds/TerrifiedAristocrat
Summary: Yukio felt like he had Toudou’s fingertips all over him, marking him, tainting him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vine/gifts).



Some days, he greeted Saburota Toudou with a gun to his head.

Yukio had to wonder if Toudou liked that kind of treatment- the way his eyes widened and his grin split his face were terrifying, disgusting, arousing all at the same time. It made the excursions Yukio took to the outskirts of the city have a strange kind of pressure to them, one where he didn’t know if he would be alone there or not.

Gradually, he became used to it.

Some days, he greeted Saburota Toudou by slamming him against a wall and shoving his tongue down the other’s throat, which was more born from aggression and frustration than lust. He wanted to harm Toudou, to do something that would mark him permanently (for once). Part of it was that Yukio wanted to feel something for once.

There were days where everything was numb and everything Yukio touched felt like it was coated in ice. He himself felt like a glacier, something large and oppressive and deadly to anything he touched. If Yukio wanted to feel something, he had to put himself in the kind of stupid, life threatening danger that would get him in trouble if anyone found out.

Every time Yukio felt this, Toudou was there. He was patient, he sat and he waited, relaxed and out of place in a worn down and abandoned building. He would lounge lazily across an abandoned sofa, an unusual amount of sake bottles lying around. Yukio refused to touch the stuff, but he could never really tell if Toudou had been drinking or not when he would arrive. 

That kind of thing didn’t matter, really.

Something that actually mattered was heat- how hot Toudou was, like he was being pinned against a fragile wall by the entirety of the sun, a raging forest fire or an angry sandstorm from the middle of the desert. Toudou kissed him like he was devouring him- fast and intense, something that blanked out Yukio’s mind pleasantly. It was almost gentle, and Yukio hated that. There was to be no gentleness in their encounters, it was an unspoken rule. Of course, Toudou had a terrible habit of disregarding what Yukio said he wanted, biting his lower lip one moment and softly kissing the corner of his mouth the next. All of it made Yukio’s head spin uncontrollably- he felt like any and all control was slipping between his fingertips much like Toudou’s hair and the tips of his feathers and his crisp trench coat slid between calloused fingers, faltering, craving. 

They were in a public place of sorts, this made the cold damp hair almost hurt against Yukio’s bare skin as he peeled off his uniform. His tie fell to the floor, soon joined by his coat and belt. Burning fingers undid buttons carefully and politely, which made Yukio growl in impatience. Toudou laughed- a low, rumbling chuckle that rolled across Yukio’s skin and made his nerves tremble and dance. His stomach clenched even before Toudou touched it, his fingertips skating almost reverently across his skin. Now he could only call it arousal- Yukio sighed softly, accepting it for the moment. He kissed Toudou again, roughly and angrily as he went about ridding Toudou of that awful uniform he wore. He wasn’t nearly as nice to Toudou’s clothes as Toudou was to his- if he could, he’d rip and tear, sending buttons bouncing off on the dusty wooden floor. It seemed to amuse Toudou,who wrapped an arm around Yukio’s waist and started walking backwards as Yukio angrily undressed him between kisses. If Yukio stopped moving he’d stop for sure, now he was fueled by a bizarre and maladaptive hunger to feel something, anything.

He felt Toudou sit down on  the sofa, he felt an empty sake bottle skitter and fall over as he stumbled into it, stumbled into Toudou’s lap with the grace of the awkward teenager Yukio used to be. For a moment Yukio paused, staring at glowing yellow eyes as he braced himself up against Toudou’s now bare shoulders, his eyes slowly trailing across Toudou’s mouth (his lips were swollen- when did that happen) down his neck and across his freckled shoulders and chest. The few times they got naked there was always something new to discover about the demon-eater’s body- this time it looked like there were soft, silvery-white markings across his skin that looked like feathers. 

Toudou reached over and tipped Yukio’s chin up, bringing his gaze back to Toudou’s eyes. He didn’t say anything, but paused for a moment. They always did- there were days when Yukio would push himself off of Toudou and leave. This time, Yukio swallowed harshly and kissed Toudou again, shifting his hips closer to Toudou’s and grinding harshly. Toudou responded in kind, his scorching hands dragging down Yukio’s back and sending delightful shivers across his skin, settling on his hips where he set a rhythm of sorts. Each movement solidified Yukio’s hunger, something hot and liquid in the bottom of his stomach that translated in the exorcist kissing Toudou’s neck messily, bitting and using Toudou’s flesh to muffle the soft groans that escaped his lips. Toudou bit his ear gently, not enough to break the skin but enough to send a spike of pain that contrasted the lust running through Yukio’s veins nicely. 

No matter how hard Yukio bit down on Toudou’s skin, he couldn't seem to make a mark. Any bruises faded rapidly, something that was fascinating to watch but still frustrating. Yukio still tried, shifting his hips here and there as Toudou helped him out of his pants. 

“You’re so focused,” Toudou commented softly, his voice barely a low whisper. Something about it did terrible things to Yukio’s self control and he sighed softly, squirming in Toudou’s lap. 

“Hm?” he responded, glaring half-heartedly at Toudou. “Stop talking,”

“Stop thinking,” Toudou replied simply, picking Yukio up and setting him down on the sofa while he took off his own pants. Yukio huffed, feeling a chill as his source of warmth started rooting around through the mess of clothes that had been discarded on the floor. 

“Hurry up,” Yukio complained, hugging himself close. 

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” Toudou replied easily, returning with a tube of lubricant and a condom between his fingers. 

“You’re one to talk about virtue,” Yukio retorted harshly. “Get over here, I’m cold,”

“So demanding,” Toudou sighed, pulling Yukio back into his lap and kissing him slowly. He was being too nice again, too gentle, too considerate. This wasn’t supposed to be like this, Yukio didn’t like it. He started to relax in a strange sort of way as he felt Toudou’s hands skate across his back. At least he knew where this was going.

That being said, the first finger Toudou inserted in him was cold and slick with lubricant, which made Yukio yelp. It was embarrassing and he shoved his face into the crook of Toudou’s neck. Toudou simply chuckled again and hummed softly, tunelessly as he fingered Yukio thoroughly.  Yukio gripped  Toudou’s shoulders, needing to hold onto something solid. He’d wanted to feel something and here it was, a low and needy ache that pulsed with each thrust of Toudou’s fingers. Yukio was torn between moaning and suppressing any noise, between rutting into Toudou’s hand or staying stock still. Once Toudou’s fingertips brushed across Yukio’s prostate he bit into Toudou’s skin again, hard enough to draw blood. Toudou groaned lowly and salty, hot liquid welled into Yukio’s mouth. He pulled his lips away in time to avoid being burned by Toudou’s regenerative process, but the blood stayed in his mouth. Yukio swallowed- it was a lot like drinking alcohol, something harsh and bitter that burned on the way down but melded with the lust in his stomach neatly. 

Toudou removed his fingers (at that point he’d worked his way up to three) and shifted positions. Yukio’s head was in a haze and he let Toudou maneuver him as necessary, finding enough strength to brace his arms against Toudou’s shoulders. Toudou took the hand he’d used earlier to keep Yukio steady and traced Yukio’s lips with it softly. Yukio’s lips parted and Toudou thrust his fingers into Yukio’s mouth before entering him in a slow but firm motion. Yukio’s eyes widened and he almost choked, biting down on the foreign fingers in his mouth to offset the burn of Toudou’s cock inside of him. After  moment of adjustment, Yukio relaxed and shifted his hips. They started grinding into each other at a slow and steady pace, something that Toudou set up and maintained even though Yukio desperately wanted him to go faster, harder. He couldn’t beg if he wanted to, because of Toudou’s fingers in his mouth. That was actually nice though, as it kept Yukio from moaning too much. He still did, although the noises he let out were muffled and punctuated by Yukio swallowing harshly, Yukio gagging when Toudou’s fingers went in too far, Yukio biting down. 

As they got closer, Toudou pulled his fingers out and leaned forward enough to pin Yukio to the couch, holding him down as he fucked the younger male. Yukio desperately sought something to grab on to, eventually settling on the back cushions of the sofa with his right hand and Toudou’s right shoulder with his left. Toudou’s fingers wound up in Yukio’s mouth again when he came, and he bit down on them hard enough to feel more than skin give way under his teeth. Yukio wasn’t sure- everything in his mind went blank for several blissful minutes as he moaned around broken fingers, swallowing burning blood that ran down his throat while he rode out his orgasm. 

When Yukio recovered, Toudou was wiping him down with a soft and damp cloth. Oddly it felt warm,which made Yukio vaguely wonder if there was running water nearby. He wanted to ask Toudou why he was being so gentle, but his tongue was swollen in his mouth. All Yukio could do was watch, and wrestle with why he felt something like a pit in his stomach when Toudou walked away for a few moments. It was probably all the endorphins running through his system, trying to form connections, bonds.

Yukio wasn’t good at bonds, he froze everything he touched.

He didn’t seem to freeze Toudou, who had absolutely no problem with touching him. He propped Yukio up, pulled a comforter (clean and nice smelling) over him and handed him a glass of water. This was much more than their usual sessions that ended in Yukio shooting Toudou’s head off, or the two of them dry humping against a wall. This was...

Yukio felt like he had Toudou’s fingertips all over him, marking him, tainting him. It felt nice.

“Rough day at work, hm?” Toudou asked.

“ ‘M not telling you,” Yukio replied quietly, petulantly.

“Of course not,” Toudou replied easily, tracing his fingertips across Yukio’s arm gently. 


End file.
